


Breakdown

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling, mama bear!cast, poor bby!Aidan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 12:48:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <a href="http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/4307.html?thread=9962963#t9962963">prompt</a>: "They don't know what happened. One minute Aidan was laughing then the laughter turned into sobs that just won't stop. Graham scoops Aidan into his arms, feeling the younger man clinging to him while he cries, and some of the cast follow to Graham's trailers to find out what's wrong."</p>
<p>break·down  <i>(noun)</i><br/>1. The act or process of failing to function or continue.<br/>2. A typically sudden collapse in physical or mental health.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakdown

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the thing - I'm a sucker for h/c. So when I saw this prompt, I just couldn't resist (especially as I've experienced something like this myself). As always, I have nothing to do with the cast of the Hobbit and I completely made all of this up.

The thing about physical pain is that it’s generally visible. You can see a split lip or a skinned knee, and you can clean it and patch it up and watch it heal over time. But if the pain is internal, if it’s your very being that aches, it can be a lot harder to spot.

In all honesty, looking back, maybe they should have realised something wasn’t quite right. They just assumed that was his character; talks nineteen to the dozen about nothing in particular, always finds something to smile about, puts 110% into everything he does. But maybe all that excitable energy was actually nervous tension. Maybe they should have noticed the way he chewed on his fingernails or bounced his knee up and down like a jackhammer or how sometimes he got this far away expression on his face that made him look like a terrified six year old. Unfortunately, that’s the thing about your mental state of mind: nobody can really see what’s happening beneath the surface. Not until one day it all just bubbles up.

They had just finished filming for the day, and the majority of the Company were still milling around, trying to decide whether or not to go out for a drink that night (because they’d had a good run, or maybe it was someone’s birthday, or perhaps it was just because it was a Wednesday). Those that were finished having their costumes, prosthetics and make-up removed were sat around in the sort of lounge area that had been constructed, just talking and joking like usual. Nothing really out of the ordinary.

Aidan was sat in the corner with Richard, Dean and Graham, listening to one of Dean’s anecdotes about filming on The Almighty Johnsons. At least, it looked like he was listening – he had an amused, easy-going smile on his face and he laughed in all the right places. Nobody noticed the way his hand tightened on the arm of his chair, gripping it until his knuckles turned white. Nobody noticed the slight hitching of his breath or the way he blinked more rapidly than usual. Nobody noticed because nobody was looking out for it.

When Dean got to the end of his story, Aidan broke out into a wide grin and started laughing, just the same as the others. That’s when things started to go wrong. They call it a breakdown because that’s precisely what it is; you watch someone physically break down in front of your very eyes.

Aidan placed a hand over his mouth as his chest shook with laughter, but then he drew in a breath that sounded so ragged that Dean stopped in surprise and glanced at him. His breathing grew quicker and shallower, as if he couldn’t quite draw enough air into his lungs, and then his eyes fluttered shut. Dean frowned.

“Aidan? You okay, man?”

Aidan nodded and pulled his hand away from his mouth.

“Yeah, I’m…” he started, but whatever he was about to say was swallowed up by a loud sob. He moved his hand to cover his eyes and hunched forward slightly, back shuddering as he tried to control this sudden onset of tears.

A hush fell over the three other men, because they weren’t really sure how permanently sunny Aidan Turner had gone from easy laughter to breathless crying in the space of two seconds. But Richard thought he had some form of idea. With a look of pained understanding on his face, he leant across and placed a tentative hand on Aidan’s shoulder; unfortunately, this only served to make him cry harder. Aidan let out a choked whimper and dropped his head into his hands, trembling fingers clutching tightly at his dark hair.

“Oh Christ, Aid,” Dean whispered. Now he was truly fucking scared. He was scared because he didn’t know what had happened (was it his fault, he was the one talking after all) and he sure as hell didn’t know what to do. The rest of the cast were starting to look their way with expressions of concern and confusion. It was as if Aidan could sense their eyes on him, because he started having what Dean could only describe as a full on panic attack. Chest heaving, teeth clenched and palms pressed into his eyes, choking out angry, wretched sobs, and for a second Dean was worried that he was going to pass out or something because he just couldn’t seem to find his breath.

But then Graham was out of his seat and crouching in front of Aidan, and he looked so calm that Dean even found himself relaxing slightly. He grabbed Aidan by the wrists, placed their foreheads together and just held him for a moment.

“Ok, ok, easy,” Graham murmured, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles across the back of Aidan’s hand. The younger man responded by drawing in a shuddering gasp, then letting out a sob that sounds so scared and broken that it made Dean’s chest ache. The entire room was now staring at the four of them in the corner; luckily, Richard noticed this too and decided to intervene. He leant close to Graham’s ear.

“We need to get him out of here,” he said in a low voice. Graham hummed in agreement. He gave Aidan’s wrist a light squeeze and rocked back on his heels. He seemed to consider something for a moment as he watched the trembling, crying Irishman in front of him, before nodding to himself with a sigh.

“Alright, Rich, get the door for me,” he said softly. Richard stood up and walked over to the entrance, giving the rest of the room a slightly pained but otherwise reassuring smile. Nobody smiled back. Graham reached out and placed one hand on top of Aidan’s head, running his fingers gently through his curls. Then in one swift movement, he went from a crouched position to standing and scooping Aidan up in his arms. It was a good thing Graham was over 6 foot tall and built much like his Dwarven counterpart, whereas Aidan was smaller and slimmer in physique; it meant that Graham was able to hold him close to his chest and carry him out of the room with fairly little hassle. Richard followed him through the door, with Dean bringing up the rear.

Although Aidan seemed to have calmed down a bit, he was still crying quietly if his shaking form was anything to go by. He had his eyes squeezed shut and his forehead pressed against Graham’s neck, fingers balled up in his shirt, as the older man carried him with relative ease towards the trailers. Richard jogged ahead to reach Graham’s trailer first and threw the door open. Once they were all bundled inside, Graham set Aidan down on the couch and collapsed next to him, before pulling his trembling body against his chest in a tight, comforting hug.

“There you are, lad. You’re alright now,” he breathed out, carding his hand through Aidan’s hair. Aidan made a small, whimpering noise against his chest and nodded, chest hitching as he tried to calm himself down. Richard sat on Aidan’s other side and leant against his back, his forehead coming to rest on his shoulder. Dean took residence on the floor by Aidan’s legs; he reached out and ran his fingers against the back of his knee, rubbing small, comforting circles into the soft material of his sweatpants. They sat in silence for a few minutes and listened as Aidan’s breathing slowly started to even out. Then he heaved out a sigh and pushed himself back from Graham’s chest.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse and scratchy from sobbing. At least he wasn’t an ugly crier, Dean thought to himself. His eyes and nose were red, but it could have been a lot worse. He raised a hand and rubbed at his eye almost embarrassedly, as though trying to wipe away any evidence of his sudden mental breakdown (but his chest still hitched occasionally and his hands were still shaking and the other three still looked slightly traumatised). Aidan licked his lips and sighed. “I’m sorry. I-I dunno what happened, it just sort of… took over.”

Richard broke into a soft smile and he gave Aidan a light head-butt against the shoulder. “Don’t be daft. You know what – on one of my first acting jobs, I was so scared of everything. Because I was younger than everyone else, I got it into my head that I wasn’t any good and that everyone was better than me, so I started completely over-working myself. I guess I was trying to prove myself or something. Eventually, one day I completely snapped, and when I got home I locked the bathroom door, sat in the bath and just cried for hours.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his nose against the shirt pressed against his skin. “Sounds familiar?”

Aidan let out a snort of laughter. “Now that you mention it.”

Then Dean grinned and patted him on the knee. “One time I was on a set and got so nervous I threw up all over the make-up lady.”

This made all of them laugh. Aidan pulled a face. “That’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, she didn’t think it was too great either. But it happens – it’s no big deal, really.”

Aidan then looked down at him with a warm smile, despite his red-rimmed eyes, and gave him an affectionate nudge in the thigh with his shoe. “Thanks, man.”

“Any time,” Dean replied with his own smile, before resting his cheek against his knee. Richard chuckled and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“You see? You’re not the first person this has happened to, and you definitely won’t be the last.”

Graham, who had been silent up until this point, pulled Aidan closer to his chest and placed his chin on top of his head. “Definitely not. So don’t let it worry you, alright?”

Aidan hummed faintly in acknowledgement. The combination of crying so much, plus the warmth his three cast-mates were radiating made him suddenly very, very tired. Eventually his body relaxed in Graham’s arms as he fell asleep against his chest. The older man let out a long sigh of relief and caught Richard’s eye over the top of his head. None of them said anything; they simply held onto their youngest dwarf that little bit tighter.


End file.
